


Out of Sight

by 100dabbo



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Begging, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Boys in Skirts, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Daddy Kink, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Control, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Bottom!Robert, Power Dynamics, Praise Kink, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26513359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100dabbo/pseuds/100dabbo
Summary: It's a real shame Eames can't see Fischer's beautiful eyes while he fucks his face.
Relationships: Eames/Robert Fischer
Comments: 12
Kudos: 23





	1. Out of Sight, Out of Mind

**Author's Note:**

> This one's for Robert Fischer's birthday, the seventeeth of September! Chapter two will follow soon 👀  
> Title from El-P's lyric on 'out of sight' by Run The Jewels - "Out of sight, out of mind, out of touch, out of time"

Fischer’s blindfold was plush, silk and baby blue. Positioned right over his eyes, humped in the centre to curve over the little bridge of his nose, with a smooth band of elastic to connect each side, it sat comfortably around his head. It was luxury, smooth, and above all, comfortable, not too tight on the skull, not causing any kinks in his hair that’d prove to be an inconvenience later on.

He was on his knees, a place he’d become all too aquatinted with after Eames had entered his life, and it was certainly a place he was all too happy to stay in, with his hands braced on the other man’s ankles, barely encircling halfway around them. 

Eames was stood in front of him, and when Robert put his hands in their habitual place, it became plainly apparent that he was clothed while Fischer was not, that disparity in modesty quickly working to turn him on all the more, even if he couldn’t actually see him.

“Bobby,” Eames’ low voice purred, triggering each hair on the back of Robert’s neck to stand vigilant, his body poising in expectancy of his command while calloused fingertips brushed over his forehead to reorder the stray locks that’d flopped down, “I want you to open your mouth for me. Nice and slowly.”

The slower he would do it would mean for more anticipation, and the more anticipation he had for what he wanted would mean more fervour and eagerness in delivering his skills. This, Eames knew, and it was exactly what he planned for.

So, obedient as ever, Robert unhinged his jaw, trying not to be overly conscious of the wet tongue in his own mouth, moving minutely over the tips of his bottom teeth, the subtlest salivary noises sounding in the silence.

Only the quiet drag of metal teeth was heard next as Eames unfastened his trousers’ zipper, then the soft skin on skin contact as his palm greeted his cock to lightly jerk it up and down. He hadn’t taken the time to stiffen himself up beforehand. He figured that was Robert’s job.

He held it out, his wrist still only using a casual stroke, and his eyes watched while Robert’s tongue glistened, waiting, adoring each tiny movement it made. He really was being a good boy, not shifting at all, not even making a sound, just patiently waiting, holding onto the hope of a reward to come his way. And a reward he surely did receive. 

Eames dropped the tip of his cock onto Robert’s pink tongue, the sudden weight of it making him jolt slightly, then moan ever so quietly while he waited for the rest to follow. But it didn’t, not immediately at least.

Of course, he couldn’t see Eames’ face and the smirk of contentment that stretched itself across his lips at the sight of his beautiful boy and that readier-than ever-mouth gaping wide, but he could sense it, angling his chin up more to prove he was prepared to take that cock down diligently. And again, as he saw it, Eames figured that since Robert wanted that job, he should have it.

“Bobby, do you think that you could take it down all the way?” He asked, rubbing the head of his cock on the slippery wet tongue, concentrating his self-control to resist the temptation of fucking into his mouth as brutally as he could. He knew those gagging sounds would be just right to pique his arousal, and yet he still had the will to stop himself falling into such a lustful instinct, thinking only of the pleasure a slower, more reticent pace could bring.

“Ah… Uh-huh!” Is all Robert could say back, as if he was in contemplation of his own limits and potential, as if he didn’t know with the most accurate sense that yes, he could indeed take it all down, and without barely even breaking a sweat too.

“Then do you think you could try and show me?” Eames encouraged, his fingertips still gently caressing that scalp, tracing them all the way to the crown of his head where the blindfold’s strap was taught.

Robert didn’t need to verbally confirm for what he’d just been given permission to do, and so he craned his neck forward, taking more of it down until a good few inches resided in the back of his throat. He closed his lips around it, letting it sit there, enjoying the full feeling between his soft cheeks, its weight and taste on his tongue, its girth forcing him to widen his mouth. And even though he wanted to, he hadn’t been told to suck, and therefore didn’t.

It really was just a pity that even with his beautiful lips and full cheeks, his head tilted upwards and his perfect hair, Eames couldn’t look into his beautiful blue eyes, which were sure to be watering from joy if not the gagging sensation in his throat. Surely one peek wouldn’t hurt. 

His right hand reached to the blindfold’s edge and eased it upwards, pushing it back over his lustrous hair to reveal those accurately imagined pleading and damp eyes staring right back at him, innocent and longing, even with the cock in his mouth. It ought to be criminal how pure he could look when doing the most salacious things.

“Start sucking.” Eames commanded, getting a little glimpse of his glinting eyes as his head began to bob, a little look just before he returned the blindfold to its place and his hands to the back of his head to guide it up and down.

Robert did what he was asked to do with diligence, sucking him to hardness, not taking long at all with that eager mouth of his. He drooled and slavered all over him to display his utmost adoration for it, barely even taking the time to breathe in order to take him deep down his well-trained throat and provide him with the pleasure he deserved. It wasn’t until Eames moaned through a command telling him to slow down that he did so, taking the order to continue with a more concentrated and conservative tongue, moving it across the base, passing it across the head, and giving his purposeful attention to the leaking slit to taste the small drop of pre-come leaking out.

His own hands intensified their grip on Eames’ ankles while he did it, like he was desperate to keep him right there, rooted in his spot so his mouth could have free reign on his cock. All his eagerness was translated just as well with his mouth as it was with his whole body, swaying back and forth with every bob his head gave, leaning into it him with all passion and fervour, churning the saliva in his mouth to drool longingly up and down the shaft and burying his face into his stomach to nest his nose into his pubic hair.

The well exacted pleasure was surmounting rapidly, up to the level that would have been sure to see Eames on the straight path for a perfect climax, so being ever cautious not to finish too soon, he decided to pull back, gently tugging on Robert’s head to relive his mouth. He let the excess spittle drip onto the floor between his bare thighs, Robert not granted the opportunity to clean it off with his keen tongue.

His well-used, puffy, and rosy lips were grinning the moment they were brought away, and shone in the light as he piped up for one question,

“Did I do a good job, Daddy?”

Eames always loved to reassure him, really boost the confidence he knew Robert might so frequently lack, and so with his soft voice and another gentle caress to his cheek, replied,

“Of course, Bobby, you always make Daddy so proud of you, taking his cock so well like that. You’ve certainly earned a reward.”

He could see Robert’s hard little prick visibly twitch at that suggestion, still untouched.

“What Daddy? What?!” Robert keened, bouncing on his knees with excitement, leaning his weight back onto Eames’ ankles, his hair swaying back over his forehead to make him want to brush it back once more and keep him perfect.

Eames paused for a moment to admire his view once more; that open-mouthed expression of excitement one he wanted to keep on Robert’s face forever. He watched the desperation slowly spread over his face while he drew out the silence, his teeth pinching his bottom lip, his chin keening up, eyes behind the blindfold probably begging in earnest too.

“I’m gonna let you swallow it all.” He finally said, instantly met with Robert enthused tone,

“All?!” He repeated back, his ever-lasting grin yet another cause for Eames’ wish to raise up the blindfold and see the joy in his eyes too. He couldn’t help but do it again, carefully tugging it up and over his hair again, and revealed the wide and smiling eyes he was expecting. He looked down into them to reply,

“Open up, baby”

Robert did it again without a word, extending his tongue readily while both of Eames’ hands clasped harder to the back of his head. He slid himself back in slowly, just slipping it through his cheeks and down his throat with a very ginger, very careful, thrust. “Daddy’s gonna fuck your beautiful little face now, okay?” Eames informed him, his thumbs brushing on the elastic of the blindfold, smoothing it out behind his ears.

“Okay!” Came the reply, his lips making their momentary contact with his shaft before opening again, his mouth audibly cock full.

“Okay...” Whispered Eames, pulling the blindfold back down while he continued the slow and steady ruts in and out of that mouth, sliding across the hot tongue and its slick spittle. Robert took it so well, so effortlessly, that he thought yet another reward was in order, “Your little prick is still hard, isn’t it?”

That labelling of his dick made a shudder run up Robert’s spine, the confirmation of size difference one that always got him hard if he wasn’t already. He nodded his head around him, desperate for it to receive more attention than its current condition, being zero. Lucky for him, Eames was about to grant it,

“I want you to wank it nice and slow while you’re taking Daddy’s cock so, so well… Do you think you could do that, Bobby?”

The praise was getting to him, his senses heightened and begging for touch, the concentration it took to not come on the spot being far too much a distraction to even respond, but Eames’ next offer made it all okay, “And I’ll let you come, too. I want you to feel so good, Bobby…” It was almost a half groan the way it came out, his hands pushing Robert’s face right into his stomach for a second, forcing the whole thing down before his slow pace continued.

Robert instantly started touching himself with Eames’ generous authorization, relieving his dominant hand from his ankle to wrap it around himself and start jerking, its fit in his palm the perfect size. He moaned upon immediate contact, not having realised that he had already been leaking pre-come that dribbled down the length of him, slightly slicking him up with ever pass he made. It was true bliss, and he groaned even louder while he disobeyed Eames’ orders just to give himself a faster tempo to stroke to, but it wasn’t like the other man cared, too busy relishing in the vibrations in his throat, moaning along with him to say, “Bobby, if you can come for me right now, if you can keep Daddy’s cock down here and come in your own little hand, I’ll eat that pretty little arse of yours for an hour, how does that sound?”

Robert lacked both the oxygen and the free tongue to let out a “please!”, but he screamed it in his mind, thrusting up into his own tight fist to near his orgasm in contrast to Eames, who continued to take his sweet time with his own pleasure.

It didn’t take long at all until Robert was coming hard in his desperately moving fist, spurting out between his shaking legs to join the saliva that’d dripped down from his mouth not long ago. His moan was the confession that told Eames it’d been done, and along with its volume, he could tell that it was very gratefully so. His whole body inclined into the feeling, pushing his head further down onto Eames cock to engulf even more in thanks.

“That’s my good boy...” Eames praised, stroking his hair with each thrust, “You’ve deserved your treat now, don’t you think?”

Robert didn’t have the energy spare to confirm, but he also knew that Eames would provide him with his just deserves regardless. He couldn’t quite command that Eames should come on his tongue, but what he could do was chant it in his mind, silently willing it to happen with only little moans here and there, and then, after the twenty-something-th time, the other man’s hips bucked a little faster, and then a little faster, and then a little faster, until he grunted deeply and pumped his release down Robert’s throat to savour the tightness and warmth. Robert took it all down with grace too, cleaning off his cock with an eager tongue to finish, lapping across it while it gradually softened against his lips.

When he eventually took his mouth away, panting heavily to recuperate, Eames relieved the blindfold for the last time, taking it clean off his head to toss it on the floor. His blue eyes were bleary and damp, but unmistakably lusting. 

“My beautiful boy...” Eames whispered to him, raising his hand up to tuck back the hairs gone loose from the force again.

He grinned, stooped down to put both of his hands on Robert’s waist, and lifted him up to throw him onto the bed, ready to deliver his second promise.


	2. Out of Touch, Out of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The roles become reversed, and the two of them enjoy it a whole lot more than they anticipated.

Of course, Robert Fischer owned more than one blindfold. It was a good thing really, since he never liked to share all that much. He’d never deign give his favourite to someone else, even if he did love them.

That’s why when Eames was tied up with his hands above his head, his naked form on display to Robert’s delight, the band that covered over his eyes was different to that of Fischer’s favourite. This ribbon was wider, an inch or two of white silk to be tied around the back of his head to Robert’s own discretion. It lacked the comfort of his own, though still serviced its purpose, nonetheless.

A position of power like this wasn’t one that Fischer was accustomed to being in either, so frequently found to be on the receiving end of domination, that the proposed switch up was a significant modification to their dynamic. And it was a welcome one too.

The joy of staring at Eames and his restricted form, the hard cock that stood so attentively upright, silently begging for attention with each twitch and jolt, was something he quickly began to relish in. He himself was still dressed, outfitted in one he knew Eames would love to see get off to, but one that in this scenario, was impossible for him to enjoy in its full glory. 

Lovely thigh highs covered his slender legs, a skirt flowing just above them, its length tapered to leave a few inches between it hem and the elastic ribbing the socks were edged by. No shirt bothered to cover his torso, and only a sheer drape of a nightdress flowed over his shoulders to cover his frame in an ineffectual excuse for modesty. His cock was free, no underwear to confine it, and he merely stroked himself absentmindedly as he decided what he was to do with the power bestowed upon him.

Such an opportunity had to be ceased in its full potential.

He moaned quietly, adjusting himself at such a volume that Eames could still definitely hear it, and asked,

“Is there something you want, Daddy?”

Of course there was. He wanted anything, anything at all to abate the aching absence of friction. A hand, a mouth, a hole; he’d take it in a heartbeat if only Robert would give it to him.

So, he nodded, confirming that desire with just the subtle dip of his chin. That seemed to suffice.

Robert alleviated the hand that was gripped onto his own prick to transfer his hold to Eames’, providing a gentle cadence to satisfy him for the time being. The groan in reply excited him, letting him realise that every time he might make such a sound, the gratification in receiving it was great, truly a pleasure that he’d never considered beforehand, or appreciated the power of.

Eames’ hips bucked upwards, desperate for more than what he was already getting, and Robert shifted down from his knees to lay flat on his stomach, his head between his thighs while the fist kept pumping. “Something more you want?” He continued to goad, not changing the pace of his palm at all, “Something else you want me to do?”

He innocently batted his eyes in an act of pure instinct to the scene, forgetting Eames was blind to anything and everything he was doing, only able to picture in his mind what the lascivious intent Fischer had inside of his gaze and the smirk of his lips, what those very lips would feel like to be wrapped around him again and suck with the power of his cheeks, encasing him in the warmth and depth of his throat.

To not see with his own eyes was borderline torture to him, yet the thrill of anticipation, the unawareness as to what was to occur next, kept him on that pleasurable rift between frustration and yearning, wanting Robert to continue evermore.

“I bet you want my mouth, huh?” Robert teased him, opening up his jaw to allow the indicative salivary noises to become audible, his tongue trailing over his lip with a mouth that was readier than ever to take him in.

The singular nod occurred once more, Eames’ hesitance to grovel and confirm such desire a challenge that Robert was all too prepared to overcome in utilising his own powers of persuasion. But in that moment, giving him what he wanted was a mutual pleasure.

His hand angled the tip of Eames’ cock towards his lips, pressing the slit right onto the supple, wetted flesh to taunt it with the idea of access, the teasing touch that tested the waters, determining whether he deserved it. Warm and heavy, he slipped it onto his bottom lip, holding it patiently as he said,

“You want it to go in?” Each hot breath drifted over the head, holding him on the precipice of pleasure, forcing him to await with bated breath for the moment that Robert would let it fall into his mouth. “Or would you prefer just my hand?”

The grip that was circulating the girth of Eames’ cock began to move again, tighter and slower than before, dragging itself up from the base to barely past its middle. The groan that surfaced in reply made Robert’s cock twitch, as did the flexing of those muscles as his arms remained held up there, constricted, bound and barren of touch, save for what Fischer chose to give him.

The tongue that had laid dormant inside his mouth escaped past his lips to make contact with the tip, lapping once to stimulate him with just a little of what he could have if he was patient, finding itself swirling around the head to coat it in saliva.

He could feel Eames relax to the feeling, his body sinking back as much as it could into the pillows, legs spreading out around Robert as a subtle hint that he could accommodate even more touch.

“You do want it inside though, don’t you?” Robert continued, pressing his lips to it after a pause, kissing it gently and looking up at that open-mouthed, desperate expression, one he was confident he presented all too often in the midst of love-making. He grinned as the nod came through for a third time. But this time, it wasn’t nearly enough to be adequate. 

With his cock still in his hand, Robert took his mouth away completely to slide his tight palm up and down again, resting it against his cheek. “You really, really do, huh?” He slipped it beneath his cheekbone, into the hollow of his bone structure to keen against it as if _he_ was the desperate one. “I really wanna give it to you, Daddy, I really do, it’s just…” 

He could feel the throbbing beneath his fingertips, Eames’ quickening pulse beating through his blood, hankering for the magnificence of that mouth and all the glorious sensations it could deliver, if only-

“If only you would beg me for it…” He grinned as he said it, letting Eames’ cock feel the creases of his smile, “Then I could…” The hand tightened even more to lift it and slap it against his cheek, the brief feel of the wet opening of his mouth giving Eames all the more reason to comply, “…I could suck your cock for you,” He moaned a little, just to give him another morsel of encouragement, “And you could make me a very happy boy…”

He angled his chin up, letting Eames’ cock fall back onto his open lips. It was right there, right in front of him, and even if Eames couldn’t see, what he could _feel_ was far more important that the surely stunning visuals, and so he uttered the first words out of his mouth since he’d been bound.

“Please give me that mouth, Bobby, please, Daddy needs it—”

He didn’t even finish his plea before Robert slipped inside, humming to express his pleasure at both the earnest appeal and the large cock fitting between his cheeks, welcoming it as warmly as he could by returning his tongue in the place it worked best.

Eames’ immediate groan was of a higher volume, which was to be expected after that gruelling tease, and he sank his body into the mattress while Robert began to bob his head along to match the tight strokes from his hand, until soon enough, the hand was relieved from him, and his lips slipped all the way down.

Oh, to see him then, barren of the blindfold, to look at his filled face and concentrated eyes; to feel him then, without his binds, to hold his hands on his head and guide him up and down with his meticulous movements. Alas, he could not, though the restriction still managed to turn him on more than he had been since the last time Robert had stooped to his knees.

Fischer came up towards the head, the thick tip still trapped in by his cheek, and attempted to enunciate some speech while his own spittle dropped from his chin,

“You like it? You want more?” He closed his lips to concentrate the sensation at the head, tongue dancing on the underside to further the tease.

“Bobby, I want nothing more than to come down that tight little throat of yours, please, just let me!”

Robert gave him a hum, a contemplative noise that denoted his decision making, and as soon as he brought his mouth away and licked a quick stripe from base to tip with the flat of his tongue, Eames knew the result wasn’t to be his initial desire. Both of Robert’s hands braced flat on the other man’s inner thighs as Eames waited for what he was going to do, saying,

“I don’t know, Daddy, I think you’d rather come somewhere else.”

The leap to conclusion that Eames’ mind made only drove his lust upwards. 

Robert’s slender hands smoothed their way up across Eames’ abs as he crawled forward, slinking himself over the bound man to straddle over his hips, hovering above that spit-slicked cock he’d been sucking on not thirty seconds ago.

He took it in his hand again, shifting back to get a look at it before he was to begin riding, and giggled sweetly while his thumb traced up its length.

“You’re so fucking big, Daddy…” He groaned to himself while his other hand lifted up his skirt, revealing the weeping prick that Eames didn’t have the chance to admire. He lined them up together, the whisper of friction that the fleeting touch gave him providing Robert with another moan to enjoy. “Look at that, nearly twice as big!” That little observation caused an impulsive buck of the hips into Robert’s hold, bouncing him on his lap just a little, “Oh wait, you can’t, can you?” Was the giggle in response to his squirm, rubbing them together a little more, himself becoming even more aroused at the size difference, “But you wish you could, right?”

“’Course, Bobby, I’d give anything for it…”

“I know.” He chuckled to himself as he leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a whisper only to repeat it once more, “I know, Daddy.”

He leant over to grab the lubricant from the bedside table, allowing Eames to hear the distinct click of the cap popping open as he flicked it up beside his ear. “I’m gonna get ready for you, I want to be _so_ nice and wet…”

The cool liquid was smoothed over his digits and he quickly brought them to his rim, priming it with a few small circles before slipping them both in to whine quietly, his free hand spread flat across the hairy expanse of Eames’ chest.

His method was less practical, less for opening purposes, and more in the vain of self-pleasure, to goad Eames with what _he_ had the freedom to do, but what he did not. There was no reticence in his noise or movement as he gently rocked himself back onto his own digits, forcing the man beneath him to feel each and every sway of his body on his lap, hear every hitch of breath and whine of contentment on his way to his self-orchestrated climax, his own keen fingertips plucking away at his sweet spot.

“Oh, my fingers feel so good, Daddy, I’m so tight and warm…” He said, feeling the jolt of Eames’ cock against his own, the nonpareil vexation that was sure to be pumping through his veins because it wasn’t inside of him instead those fingers.

It made Robert giggle again at the power rift, knowing that Eames would be willing to give away anything to just receive his gratification then and there, to save him from the continuous game he was so intent with playing. He’d agreed to be placed in submission, and this was the evil pleasure of Robert’s design that gave him such simultaneous amusement and adversity, that made him want to hang on for it. But his own desperation couldn’t help but get the better of him.

“Please, baby,” He groaned as he heard the fingers quicken, the wet little noises revealing their speed and movement, “Just let me—”

He was cut off by a hand striking against his cheek. The stubble stung against Robert’s palm, but he returned it to Eames’ chest softly as he laid out the situation,

“Don’t be impatient, Daddy.” The authority in his tone made what were quick and desperate breaths transform into heavy and laboured sighs, the tell of Eames processing the shift in command with his calm exhales, enduring it as his cock throbbed at the hotness, “You’re mine and I’ll do what I like with you.” An obedient nod came through, something else to keep Robert’s grin wide, “I own this cock and I’ll be choosing where it goes and when it comes.”

He thrust his fingers inside of himself again, grazing his prostate with careless imprecision, like he had all the time in the world to do what he wanted. And, to a certain extent, he did, though even he had to admit that he wanted that cock inside of him as much as the other man. He gave Eames’ a few light jerks to sate him slightly, bringing his hand down and up, feeling the bulging veins beneath the tip of this thumb as it dragged across the skin, and moaned loudly just to feel it throb in his palm one more time.

Eames was still attempting to be silent, focusing in earnest to prevent himself from begging out loud, letting another groan slip out to convey his impatience and remind Robert again of what he needed. The thumb trailed up to the head where it smoothed across Eames’ oversensitive slit, the signature move that he would so often inflict upon Robert’s dick, and he bit his lip as the slick of his pre-come was slipped around his skin.

“Do you think I should lube you up too?”

At that point, the nods coming from Eames were mere movements to mirror the rhythm of Fischer’s strokes, and yet they still managed to translate his desire to be immersed inside of him, to be gripped by the tight wetness freshly opened up by his digits. He heard the quiet moan as Robert took his fingers out of himself, reaching back for the lube to drip it down the side of Eames’ cock, sliding it down the sides in preparation for entry, and sighed while he braced for what he’d been awaiting.

Robert knelt up higher to bring it beneath his skirt, angling the tip towards his rim, letting the wet head kiss the hole that was all too ready to take it in. He was just in touch, and even though his hands couldn’t grip onto those hips to slam him down as he so much wanted, even though his eyes couldn’t look at him in wonder in this prelude to riding, he was satisfied with the expectation of what was to come.

Then, with purposeful languor, Fischer began to sink down, knowing full well that he could take every single inch of it with ease, and yet still prolonged his method. He feigned a struggle not only to heighten both their arousal at Eames’ size, but to amplify that relentless desperation the other man had to get it all in at once.

“Fuck Daddy, do you think I should take your big cock all the way? Do you think my tight little hole can take it?” He asked, embedding his teeth into his soft lip.

“Yes, yes, yes, Bobby, my _god_ please—” 

He sat down all the way once he heard that delighting plea, bottoming out fully to provide him with a tight clench for his efforts. Robert felt him shudder beneath him, his hands balling into fists and pulling against his binds.

“Does Daddy like that?” He asked as he started to rock back and forth, “Daddy wants it faster?” He traced his fingertips across his chest, finding Eames’ nipple to press and squeeze, forcing out yet another one of his deep, hearty groans as a ‘yes’, “He wants to come too, I bet…”

“Please, please—” 

Another slap to his cheek followed along from his appeal, the echoes of another giggle coming forth quickly as Robert began stroking the face he’d just smacked, still rocking down in that painfully slow pace. His thumb brushed against Eames’ lip as he whispered,

“Tell me, Daddy, tell me how much you want to come inside me.”

The hand on the side of Eames’ face slipped down and onto his shoulder, gripping tightly to get the leverage he needed for another grind down on that cock, subtly shaking on top of him at every stroke of his prostate.

“Bobby…” Eames moaned, lacking the breath needed for a coherent sentence, “Fuck, Bobby, I—”

The next slap to Eames’ face pursued that curse, this time from his other hand, the blow even more unexpected than the last.

“No more cursing, you’ll set a bad example.”

Eames didn’t apologise, nor did he deign moan at how powerful the strike was, and he merely continued his original thought, omitting the expletives, 

“I need to finish inside you, Bobby, I need it so bad, honestly, baby…”

“Mm, sounds like you’re serious,” The other man said, leaning his body forward to precede the tight clench of his hole and the grip to his shoulders. Eames nodded to confirm, utterly lost in the feel of Robert dragging himself up and down on his cock, so slowly, so meticulously, that even _he_ had to be yearning for his own release. “Maybe I can do a little something to help you out along the way, how does that sound?”

The question was rhetorical enough in its tone, Eames’ open mouth his tell of desperation to both finding out what it was and having it as soon as possible. Robert took his right hand off Eames’ shoulder and ventured it beneath the pleated skirt spread across Eames’ lap. His hand grasped onto his own cock, jolting as the new touch registered against his skin, and he began jerking himself.

So far, this was nothing out of the ordinary; Robert would often touch himself as he rode, even in times where he wasn’t too, usually at the behest of Eames when he was in his habitual domineering role, but it was what followed next that proved to be a rarity.

Like the words straight out of a porno he’d watched just that morning, he yelled out the most obscene noises,

“Daddy! Daddy, oh my god, you feel so _good_!” The kicker was that wasn’t even a lie. What was replicated ‘dialogue’ from a shot and directed film of pornography was closer to the truth in Robert’s situation than it was for the actors in their scene. “Fuck! I wish I could ride your big cock forever!”

Eames was so close to finishing from just that, as was Robert, whose pumping fist and deliberate rocking was getting him nearer and nearer to the glorious climax that awaited him. He planted his free hand behind him, splaying it out in the waves of sheets at his feet to stabilise himself while leaning back, thrusting into his own palm along with each of his bounces, whining out amongst his needy breaths and half-whispered curses.

As it happened, as it rushed through his body in a tempestuous wave of bliss, he proclaimed the act in scratchy moans and hitched breaths of stunned pleasure,

“Ah! I’m coming, Daddy!”

And the white release spilled across Eames’ abs, dripping from his slit in a thick string as he continued to rock back and forth, stimulating his sweet-spot for as long as he could until it was drained from him. His cheeks were flushed, as was his spent and softening cock, and he sat still on Eames’ cock as he came down from the heights of his orgasm.

His laboured breaths came out hot and heavy while he readjusted his position, sliding himself off of Eames’ dick to slink back down between his thighs, the oversensitive head of his prick dragging against the sheets on his way back, forcing out a shiver to run through the tender remnants of delicate pleasure buzzing on his skin.

Eames was clearly dissatisfied with the result, feeling cheated of what was promised to him,

“What happened to ‘forever’?” He quipped with an impetuous murmur, pulling against the binds of his wrists again, cock throbbing and aching for release.

Maybe it was the hum of his afterglow, or maybe it was because he finally believed that Eames had earned his finish, but Robert’s generosity led his palm back to the man’s cock, stroking it carefully, replying,

“I _will_ have it forever, don’t you worry…”

Eames could almost see that grin with the way he let out his faint little chuckle, but was quickly led away from those thoughts, carried by the rhythm of Robert’s hand becoming faster and faster, guiding him towards the climbing release that had been sought after since the moment he was stripped of his clothes.

This whole time, it had been Robert using him for his own pleasure, taking him into his mouth to sate his own craving, riding him fervently to finish on his own time, slapping him across the face to excite his own power and force. Well, now it was Eames’ turn to have his share.

“Come for me.” Robert commanded, sliding his palm up and down with just the right speed, just the right pressure, and just the right timing, that Eames could not disobey.

He shot his release across his own stomach with a deep grunt, tugging on the tight binds to expel the pent up pleasure in his system, barely even registering the satisfied moan of Robert while he watched his efforts come to completion. To see those wide, marvelling eyes would have been a gift, Eames was sure of it, but he was thankful enough for his finish that as the last of it was spilled out, it was out of his mind completely.

That is until Robert leaned forward on top of him again, his hands reclaiming their place on his inner thighs. He felt his head dip down, close enough that his mouth was to be hovering right above his abs. The warm touch of his tongue trailed across his skin, lapping up what had been left for him; both his own, and Eames’ release.

“Fuck, Bobby, let me see that tongue, _please_!” Eames pleaded as the tongue continued its trail right across his stomach, clearly intent on taking the whole lot of it in. 

His thoughts could only consist of the possibilities of that view in that moment, how his eyes would be closed in concentration, how his tongue would be leading his mouth over their spoils, his soft hair flopping over his forehead, so soft that just a touch of it would be heaven enough.

He received a hum, quickly followed by his hand reaching up, loosening the blindfold and returning his vision to the world.

But he was already finished. His abs glistened with the remaining saliva. The corner of Robert’s lip was a milky white.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :) Kudos and comments are always appreciated ♥ Check me out on Tumblr!


End file.
